


Hanging On

by Inell



Series: Teeny Fic Challenge [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Broken Hearts, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Lydia Still Loves Jackson, Male-Female Friendship, One-Sided Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Only Not Just One-Sided, Past Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Pining Stiles Stilinski, Post-Season 4, Postcards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 10:56:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9816794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Stiles and Lydia have a lot more in common than most people realize.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said: Stiles and Lydia Friendship for the teeny fic
> 
> We both loved and lost before  
> You know the sadness it can bring  
> Tonight let's close the door  
> And hold onto the nearest thing
> 
> Like We Never Had a Broken Heart by Trisha Yearwood

 

“Thanks for coming over.” Stiles follows Lydia into his bedroom, shutting the door behind them. It’s half past two on a Saturday night, and he hasn’t since slept since Thursday. There’d been an incident with a fairy in the preserve last night, and sleep is proving elusive tonight despite how exhausted he feels.

“Anytime.” Lydia takes off her coat, looking around for a moment with pursed lips before finally laying it over the back of his desk chair. She looks at him and smiles. “It’s not like you haven’t been there for me every time I’ve needed you the last couple of years.”

“Yeah, well, I’m aware it must be a pain in the ass to have me calling you this late.” He drags his fingers through his hair and smiles wryly. “I’m just having trouble sleeping, you know?”

“I know.” Lydia puts her purse on his desk, her fingers immediately going to the postcard he received that morning. Her fingernails are painted a pale shade of pink today, which matches the dress she’d been wearing when they ate lunch earlier. Now, she’s wearing a pair of yoga pants and a tank top, rolling out of bed and heading over as soon as he called.

“I got that today.” He bites his lip when she turns the card over and reads the two words that are written on the back. _Miss you_ is all it says. The familiar sharp angles of the words somehow making the writing audible whenever Stiles looks at it. He can hear that soft voice against his ear saying the words, and it makes him ache to realize he’s still alone, that there’s no one there to hold him and whisper anymore.

“He needs to stop,” Lydia murmurs, putting the card back down before turning to face him. “He chose to leave, and it’s not fair for him to keep giving you hope this way.”

“Maybe…maybe he _does_ miss me?” Stiles ducks his head when she gives him a pitying look, feeling the back of his neck turn warm because he’s embarrassed that he still has that hope. It’s been six months since Derek left, since he decided he had to get away from Beacon Hills in order to truly live, since he left Stiles behind without looking back. But it’s also been four months since the postcards started to arrive, nothing on them except the familiar handwriting and those same two words every single time, postmarks from all over the country.

“I’m sure he does, Stiles.” Lydia gives him a gentle smile. “Jackson missed me when he left. I know he did because I missed him, too. I still miss him,” she says quietly, moving closer to him and reaching for his hand. “I know people thought were bad for each other, that it was a disaster, but I loved him, and he loved me. It just wasn’t enough.”

“I used to think that way,” Stiles admits, tugging her forward until he’s hugging her against his chest. “He treated you bad, and you weren’t really nice to him, either. But I saw it, that night with the kanima, and I couldn’t deny that it wasn’t real. Not after that.” He brushes a kiss against the top of her head. “I never got that, never got the relationship, the memories to think about on lonely nights. We were just friends.”

“You were more than that to each other, Stiles.” Lydia hugs him tight. “You were a possibility, a maybe. It just wasn’t enough, either.”

“ _I_ wasn’t enough,” Stiles whispers, closing his eyes and remembering Mexico. The fear, the realization that this is love, the stumbling to save Scott while dying inside, and then Derek choosing to leave, choosing not to return with them. It didn’t even hurt that he left with Braeden because Stiles knows that never really meant anything serious, just a way to move on and try to get beyond the past. No, it hurt that he left without saying a word to only then end up sending him postcards a couple of months later.

“Never say that,” Lydia says sharply, punching his arm hard enough to hurt. “You are more than enough, Stiles. What Derek chooses to do with his life doesn’t affect your worth. Understood?”

“Easier said than done.” Stiles holds up his hands. “Lydia, tell me that you didn’t feel the same way when Jackson went to London shortly after your love saved him?”

“I got over it pretty quickly,” she tells him sullenly, unable to lie to him about something serious. “You need to get over it, too. Your heart is broken right now, but it’s going to heal, and it’s going to repair itself. There might be some dents and missing pieces, but it’s still going to be whole again.”

“How can it be whole if there are pieces missing?” he asks, reaching out to tug on the end of her hair, which is up in a messy bun.

“Stop being deliberately obtuse,” she mutters, swatting his hand away from her hair. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Man, you don’t even know how happy that phrase would have made me a couple of years ago.” Stiles smiles slightly as he pulls the blankets back on his bed. “Fifteen year old me is ridiculously excited right now.”

“Fifteen year old you was a creepy stalker who felt entitled to my attention. I much prefer seventeen year old you,” Lydia says, crawling onto his bed and slipping beneath the covers. She pats the space beside her. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

“Bossy, bossy.” Stiles turns off his lamp before getting into bed. He wiggles over to her, shifting around until she’s curled up against his chest and his nose is pressed against her hair. “Does it really get easier?”

“No,” she whispers, putting her hand on his and squeezing. “Not easier, but you will get better.”

“Do you still love him?” Stiles is talking against her hair, keeping his voice low because this is when they’re the most honest with each other, when they’re lying in the dark unable to sleep.

“I do.” She tightens her grip on his hand. “That never really goes away, Stiles. You just have to hang on because, if you don’t, you’ll fall apart, and no man is worth doing that over. Especially not one who walks away without looking back.”

“It hurts,” he breathes out, closing his eyes when he feels them stinging. “Knowing that we might could have had something but we lost the chance. Never really _had_ the chance.”

“I know it does, sweetie.” Lydia sighs. “But your heart won’t be broken forever. Promise.”

“I love you, Lyds.” He kisses her head lightly, keeping his eyes closed because he’s shed enough tears over the could have beens.

“I love you, too, Stiles.” Lydia snuggles back against him. “Now close your eyes and go to sleep. I’ll take you out for brunch when we wake up.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://inell.tumblr.com)


End file.
